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I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
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I am home and I definitely do not want to be. I had a bit of a luggage mission trying to get here, with the final weigh in at the check in making me feel like a contender at fat camp. My suitcases were taking the piss heavy. Having no money to pay for extra charges I was visibly worried (much to the enjoyment of my flatmates, u fuckers) that I would get landed with a £100 fine for excess baggage. I didn’t. I got a heavy load sticker. That was just for me.
I landed to the Aberdeen cold and was momentarily excited, to see my parents and my dogs. This joy lasted as long as it took me to get to the bus stop after decking myself out in entirely new clothes to go party. I got on my bus and immediately heard the low groaning that is the Aberdonian accent. Someone once likened it to Nordic, I would be more inclined to say, Barbaric. Sitting on the bus made me actually miss the impersonal tubes as someone gobbed a spit ball in my still greasey from London hair and called me a freak. Back to normality I guess. I was greeted at Queen of Fun’s house by the lady herself and The Clubb. Neither seemed particularly up for a party and by this time, nor did I. The previously wallpaper free flat had been completely redecorated, making me feel like I didn’t quite belong in this normally familiar flat with familiar people. I felt a bit disassociated for at least 10 minutes as I tried to comprehend the fact that I would no longer be able to walk down the street being stared at for reasons other than discontempt and I would now be able to drink the tap water, if I really wanted to. There was at least one plus point to being home. I have yet to find many more. We went out to Aberdeen’s only gay club, Castros. Normally in Castros I am used to being mashed in like compressed shite but for some reason, people had clearly been made aware that today was my homecoming and had stayed away. At least I had room to shake my double sized arse on the dancefloor. People I had met only twice in my life mobbed me with hugs and told me they had missed me but I’m sure if I had bothered to ask they wouldn’t have even known my name let alone where I had been and for how long. The gestures were nice nevertheless. The DJ played a not so great version of Stronger (britney, do I even need to point that out?) but as he played her in the first place, I will not grumble. Slave 4 U was well needed for some porno dancing with someone of my choice but it went unplayed. The rest of the music was consistently good with dance versions and cover versions galore. I really was home. But still I had that nagging feeling (no, it wasn’t the large bi girl trying to get into my zipper) that I really shouldn’t be here. I just hate that I have come home to a city stuck in the early nineties, where people are ill mannered and often disgusting. On the bus today I sat beside an elasticated shell suit that moaned about the price of milk. I think they bathed in milk. It certainly smelt like it. The waft of sour cream (no chive) clung to my nostrils for 5 hours afterwards. People could at least have the decency to tend to wash before squeezing their polyester clad arses into seats beside me. How rude. Anyway, there is so much more I could rant on about but am in the mood only to sleep and moan and I have nothing constructive to say. Nothing new there then. I aim to be in a far better mood tomorrow and here are my likes which took me 2 hours to come up with and also my dislikes which took me 2 seconds to come up with. General opinion of today: it sucks. Today’s Dislikes Public transport Bad britney mixes People who make me feel like shit, purposely or not Foul beasts ABERDEEN Woolly socks Broken nails Going back to Uni Today’s Likes Finding treasure… Marilyn Manson, loud My own bed Selected People Carrot Bake Britney Wannabe 
3/10/2002 09:10:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
